


Roses are red

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Series: Interruptus [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6293476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her silly little poem is giving me ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roses are red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Port](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Port/gifts).



> Nebulously takes place roughly 3 years post-S5.

_Roses are red,_  
_Violets are blue,_  
_Poetry's stupid,_  
_But I do love you._

 _Sugar is sweet,_  
_But not like honey,_  
_You're my favorite treat,_  
_I hope tonight you'll eat me._

 

I stare at the words written on the card in the bouquet that Mo French just personally delivered to the house after the shop closed. I wonder just what kind of deal he and Emma struck, particularly since she's working the evening shift, and won't be home for another few hours yet. Emma arrested Leroy and Will for getting into a literal pissing contest in front of the Rabbit Hole, so she has to stay at the station with them until Robin can take over babysitting duties on the midnight shift.

Smiling broadly, I remember that Robin's late shift means that Henry is babysitting Roland overnight. Roland hates that word, preferring that we call it big brother supervision instead. After all, what self-respecting ten-year-old who hangs out with the Merry Men wants to be _babysat_? They're staying at Robin's cabin out near the Merry Men's camp, and Henry has his phone. Snow's already called three times to make sure that I won't change my mind and let her and David watch both of the boys. Henry's sixteen now and doesn't need his grandparents hovering over him, but she still won't accept that.

A couple of deep breaths help to release the tension that thoughts of Snow still occasionally bring, then I set the bouquet on the side table in the foyer. A nice prominent place that Emma will see when she gets home. Perhaps they'll get moved to our bedroom afterward, but for now, I want to display this gift from my wife. The card stays with me though. I don't need the insanity that would ensue if Snow got hold of it, even after this long.

Tucking the card in my pocket, I fire off a quick text to Emma.

> _Thank you for the flowers. Will do it properly when you get home._

That done, I head into the kitchen to prep the vegetables that will go into the slow cooker in the morning for dinner tomorrow night. When she doesn't reply right away, I figure she's busy with the idiot drunks. My thoughts turn to what I have planned for when Emma gets home, body working on autopilot on the dinner prep.

Her silly little poem is giving me ideas.

***

It seems like forever before eleven-thirty rolls around. I know Emma's schedule like the back of my hand. Shift change is at eleven, she'll discuss anything happening with Robin for five or ten minutes, then she does one last patrol through town on her way home. The bug gets parked next to mine and she does a quick round of the yard for safety before coming in the house. Once inside, boots and coat come off, her gun goes into the safe in the office, and she does a quick walk through of the main floor before heading upstairs. Clothes come off the minute she steps in the room, leaving a trail behind her as she comes over to kiss me briefly before heading into the bathroom.

Tonight is different from the usual. She's moving a little slower, more carefully than normal, and she doesn't kiss me before going to the bathroom. Perhaps Leroy or the Knave needs to hurt a little, too. If they've hurt her in the circumstances of their incarceration, I'll hurt them. End of discussion.

She smiles as she walks out of the bathroom, clad in only a white tank top and black panties. My eyes trail down the long, muscular lines of her body, and I can't help but lick my lips. I will never again take for granted how lucky I am to have this woman in my life. Bringing my focus back to her face as she climbs into bed next to me, I can see the fatigue in her eyes.

"Emma? Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine," she says as she crawls into bed before gently kissing me. "Leroy got a little pissed when I went to cuff him, and he elbowed me in the gut. Apparently I interrupted his winning _stream_ in the contest. His head may have connected with the hood of the cruiser. He'll have a headache in the morning, as well as be hungover."

That makes me chuckle darkly. "My hero. That'll make this thank you for my flowers even sweeter."

"Oh?"

"Mm-hmm," I reply, shifting to straddle her hips. "You just lie back and relax and let this _grateful_ citizen thank you for keeping Storybrooke safe again."

"Oh, I can definitely do that," she replies, pulling me down for another kiss.

I let her control the kiss for a moment before I start to kiss and nibble my way down her body. Pushing up her top, my lips wrap around one already taut nipple as my fingers tease its mate. Emma arches her chest and moans softly, and I can feel her stomach quiver with the effort. I want to draw out the pleasure, but I can't wait any longer. I've been thinking about this all night. Magic removes her panties as I kiss my way down her toned stomach.

"Just relax and enjoy," I murmur against her skin before my tongue traces around her clit.

"'Kay," she mumbles, fingers curling in my hair.

Her compliance makes me smile, and I begin making love to her clit in earnest. After three years, I know exactly what it takes to bring my wife to a swift, but satisfying first orgasm. Hopefully the first of several tonight. Her body tenses, then starts to relax, a sure sign that her orgasm is nearing.

…until I hear a sound both amusing and frustrating. Hoping I've misheard, I continue teasing her clit, until her hand goes limp in my hair.

"Emma?" I sigh as she snores again, moving to settle next to her. "Guess I'll _thank_ you awake instead."

**Author's Note:**

>   
>    
>  [source](http://artistryinbloomsblog.blogspot.com/2013/02/roses-are-redviolets-are-blue-valentine.html)   
> 


End file.
